Not Anybody's Girl
by iKonoKlastiKsiNNer
Summary: *note: originally, by meEh-76* Hermione is sick of being the frizzy-headed nerd, and decides to make a little change. Draco & Co. make a bet involving Hermione. R for sex and language. Please READ!!! Beginning doesn't make sense, but it will soon. R


**Not Anybody's Girl**

by meEh

Disclaimer: Roses are red, Violets are blue, I don't own this, So please don't sue!!!

Yup, I don't own no nothing, not even the disclaimer. I saw it somewhere else, so if it's yours, I'm sooo sorry!!!

Ok, so this is my first Harry Potter fanfic, and I've only written one other fic, for the Tamora Pierce section.  So I appreciate all suggestions and stuff, and I LOVE reviews loL.  I don't think flames are very fair though, since people work very hard on their stories and flames just aren't very nice.  Heh.

Also, I go on AIM a lot, so if u c me typin lyk diz, I'm sorry.  I'm still adjusting!

And so without any further ado . . . I present to you the very first chapter of Not Anybody's Girl.

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**Chapter One - Fighter**

" -- 'Cause it makes me that much stronger  
Makes me work a little bit harder  
It makes me that much wiser  
So thanks for making me a fighter  
Made me learn a little bit faster  
Made my skin a little bit thicker  
Makes me that much smarter  
So thanks for making me a fighter -- "

                        -Christina Aguilera, _Fighter_

There he was again.

 Him. 

Tucker Rowe.  The sex god of Goldenrod Avenue.  Drool.

Hermione almost swooned.  He was so close that she could actually see the words "Abercrombie and Fitch" on his black T-shirt.  His dark hair had been carefully spiked, and he was wearing his trademark scowl, blinking sexily as his deep blue eyes adapted to the dim library.  And she was less than 50 feet away, sprawled out on a battered old beanbag near the back of the Fiction Section.  Momentarily, she forgot about the thick, heavy _Complete Volume of Shakespeare's Plays_ she held in her hands, just gaping stupidly at the tall vision in black through her thick glasses.

Her heart fluttered when he looked up at the corner she was sitting in and began walking towards her.  His cute-but-not-exactly-sexy cronies followed, and Hermione was disappointed to see a pale, thin blonde hanging onto his arm and giggling in what she obviously thought was a very cute way - however, Hermione thought that it looked very stupid.  Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice that he was standing right in front of her until he cleared his throat loudly.

"Excuse me," he said huskily. "Seeing that you practically live here in the library, and that the librarians are too busy chattering to be of much assistance, I was wondering if you happened to know where the porn mags are."

Startled, Hermione stared at him like a deer in headlights for a few seconds, then realized what was happening.  She blushed deeply until her cheeks were a blotchy crimson and managed to stammer out, "Ummm . . . w- well, I don't really know i- if the the umm library has any - " she blushed even deeper " – porn magaz- mags."

A boy standing behind Tucker snorted.  Hermione recognized him as one of the boys from her class in fifth grade, before she went to Hogwarts.  "I told you, Rowe, the frickin' library doesn't have anything good to read.  Bet they dun even have sports mags," he said, punching his friend lightly in the shoulder.

Hermione was indignant.  With a sudden burst of pride for her beloved library, she burst out, "The library has many good books to read!  It has Shakespeare and Homer an- and Aristotle's teachings and Dickens . . . and it has lots of books on basketball and football and anything else!"  Then, realizing what she had done, Hermione ducked her head and went back to blushing embarrassedly.

Looking at each other for a second, Tucker's friends burst into peals of amused laughter, the blonde's high, thin chortle echoing off of the yellowing walls of Hermione's temple.  Only Tucker didn't laugh, though his mouth was twitching upwards.

"Guys, shut up," he said softly.  Immediately, everyone quieted down, though most still wore mocking grins.  "I think Hermoine here has some point.  I mean, we haven't really seen much of the library since our weekly trips here in fourth grade.  Could you show us around, Hermoine?"

Gaining confidence at Tucker's support, Hermione straightened up and said clearly, "Sure.  I'd love to."  Turning around, she added, "And it's 'Her-MY-oh-nee,' not Hermoine."

Almost strutting with happiness – Tucker had spoken to her and stuck up for her!!! – Hermione began to walk towards the Classics Section.  She didn't hear the tall sex god whisper to his gang, "Hell, it'll be fun.  Fooling around with that fuzzy-headed bookworm, I mean.  Does she really think I would LIKE her? Fuck no!"  They smirked derisively before following Hermione through the rows and rows of books.

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"And this is my favorite section – the fantasy section.  I mean it's pretty interesting to see what Mug- I mean people like _us_ think of the magical world," Hermione finished an hour later.  She peered curiously at the bunch of teenage boys falling asleep behind her, not understanding why they didn't look fascinated.  She unconsciously scratched her butt through her faded jeans, earning a muffled snigger from the blonde.

"Umm, well.  I certainly know lots more about the library now!" Tucker said cheerily, though he was trying in vain to suppress a few yawns.  "Listen, Hermyown, we've gotta go, the skatepark to meet a couple friends you know . . . but I'd _love_ to see you again.  How about I take you out to a movie tonight?  I know where you live, so I'll pick you up 'round 8, k?"  Not even waiting for her stammered "y- yes," he winked and left with his friends.

When she was sure they had left, Hermione sank down into a soft plush chair, giddy with joy.

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"No, that makes me look too fat . . . eww!  Tucker probably hates pink! . . . ooh I didn't know I had this skirt!" Hermione muttered to herself as she went through her closet, trying to find something suitable to wear that evening.  *Shit!  It's almost 7!  Where's that mini-skirt Aunt Ethera got me last year?*  Then, she remembered.  She had given it away to one of her Muggle friends, sure that she would never wear something that short in her life.

"Honey, are you okay in there?" her mother called, knocking softly on the bedroom door.

"I'm fine, mom!  I'm almost ready!" Hermione said hastily.  They were both lies.  Half of her clothes were strewn messily on the bed, and the other half were lying on the floor.  And, she couldn't find anything suitable to wear.  Then-

"Ah ha!" Hermione cried in triumph.  She pulled on the dress she had found folded at the bottom of a giant pile of clothes gathering dust in her closet, hoping that Tucker would like it . . .

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Tucker Rowe pulled up in front of the Granger household at 8:01 in his blood-red convertible.  Damn, what was that girl wearing?  He scowled his infamous scowl, thinking that maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all.  All he had wanted to do was screw around with the bookworm from fifth grade, who was away at some small all-girls boarding school most of the year.  It would be fun, he had assured his friends, though his girlfriend Kelly hadn't been so sure.  She had made him get her a vibrator to make up for it.   Snapping back to the present, he blinked profusely, trying to see exactly what "Her-MY-oh-nee" was wearing.  Even though she spent most of the day burying her bushy head in a book, he had expected her to wear something ordinary.  Maybe her jeans and a 4-H T-shirt.  But no, she was walking, no, _wobbling_ down the path on bright green high heels, a battered red purse dangling from her arm.  The most shocking thing was her dress – a canary-yellow spaghetti strap that reached past her knees, wrinkled and obviously too big – the straps kept slipping past her shoulder, and it was revealing more than what Hermione would have wanted.  Finally, she reached the car, squeaking a quick "Hi!" before getting into . . . the backseat?  Turning around and handing her a rose, he noticed that she had tried to apply some make-up – her flaming cheeks were bright pink with some girly blush, and her lipstick was slightly smeared from nervously licking her lips.  Sighing, Tucker started the car, deciding that this** definitely** was not a good idea.

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Hermione hummed quietly to herself in the back of the car.  She was almost bursting with joy . . . Tucker had been gaping at her when she was walking elegantly towards him, obviously impressed by the buttercup colored dress.  She smiled "sexily" at him through the front mirror, almost swooning when he winked back.  She felt like the luckiest girl on Earth – this was almost, **ALMOST** better than getting full points on a Transfiguration essay.  Sighing contently, she leaned back and enjoyed the breeze.  Shivering a little, she asked Tucker to close the top of the convertible (A/N: What do you call it when you transform the convertible to a regular car?).  She didn't notice him exhale exasperatedly, just happily thinking how gallant and chivalrous and just purely perfect Tucker Rowe was.

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At the movie theater, Tucker bought two tickets to an R-rated romance movie, knowing that the nudity would make the Granger girl a bit- _uneasy_.  Grinning, he wrapped his arm around her pudgy waist, steering her into the darkened theater after purchasing a Jumbo Coke and some popcorn.  Hermione wanted to sit near the middle, but Tucker had other plans, taking her to the very back of the theater.

A few minutes into the movie, Tucker's arm snaked around Hermione's waist, pulling her tightly against him.  He had already lifted the armrest between them, and moved the popcorn and Coke out of the way.  By now, Hermione had stopped paying attention to the movie, which was about an infamous brothel in France, nervously wondering what the sexy sex god was going to do.  He nuzzled her cheek softly, lips pressed gently against her neck.  With his free hand, he turned her chin to face him and touched his mouth to hers, kissing her softly.  When she didn't respond, unsure of what he wanted, he pressed his lips more insistently to her soft ones, his tongue probing the lipstick-caked mouth.  Hermione had secretly read a few romance novels before (well, she'd read just about every book in the library!), so, having a vague idea of what was happening, she hesitantly opened her mouth to his.  His tongue entered her warm mouth, exploring the perfect teeth, the results of having dentists as parents, involuntarily uttering a low moan as her tongue touched his.  Drawing away for breath, he descended on her soft white neck, licking and sucking and nipping at the delicate skin.  This time, she moaned, arching her neck instinctly, asking for more.

There were few people seated around them, but the ones that could hear the muffled moans and whimpers tried to ignore the _noisy_ couple in the back row.

Though Hermione was not the type to make out with any guy in a darkened movie theater, she soon found herself straddled on top of Tucker Rowe, her glasses tossed carelessly away, sucking at his strong neck, inhaling his sweet cologne.  His arms were stroking her back, running up and down her spine.  She ran her hands over his chest, caressing his nipples through his tight shirt.  Hermione felt a throbbing hard stick between her legs, realizing what it was after a few seconds.  Tucker slowly took his hands from her back, and he began to run his fingers over Hermione's stomach under her dress.  Cupping her plump breasts, he rubbed his hand against the hardened nipples, eliciting a needy groan from her.  Slipping his hand under her bra, Tucker rubbed his thumb over the pebbly-hard nipples, pinching and pulling them forcefully.  He massaged her breasts, loving the feel of the soft skin against his hands.  Suddenly, he moaned as her hands found his cock and began to stroke it tentatively through his baggy jeans.  Tucker rubbed his fingers against Hermione's inner thighs, carefully stroking her through her panties.  He was annoyed when she pulled away later, tidying herself and trying to find her glasses, until she whispered to him, "The movie's over.  And I hope that you respect my decision that we shouldn't continue this later.  I'm not ready for . . . sex yet."

Outside in the cold night air, such a big contrast to their heat of a few minutes ago, they looked at each other uncomfortably for a few seconds.

"Umm, well, see you again?" Hermione asked timidly.  Tucker gave a derisive snort.  Whatever the reaction, Hermione hadn't expected _that_.  "Well?"

"God Granger, I thought you were smart!" he managed to say (since when did he call her Granger?).  "It was just a one-time screw k?  Hell, you thought I was actually _interested_ in you?  Fuck no!  You see- "

Hermione interrupted.  "So you were just 'screwing' with me?  Just having a little _fun_?  Bu- Wha- **_WHY???_**"  She was no longer afraid of what he thought of her after he uttered those words, for her Gryffindor bravery and pride had been stirred.  Gone was the Hermione who quietly hoped Tucker Rowe would notice her in her little corner – the Hermione who had fought Death Eaters and faced Voldemort was taking over.  She raised herself to her full height (exactly 5 inches below Tucker's towering 6 foot 1), resembling an angered wildcat with her hair mussed from their "intercourse," brown eyes blazing.  When Tucker tried to pull her into a quiet corner, for they were starting to attract attention where they were standing.  She wouldn't budge.

Just slightly intimidated, he replied evenly, "Fuck off Granger.  I never want to lay my eyes on your fat, pudgy little figure again.  And by the way, that hair looks like it's just been fried with some chow mein."

Truly angered now, Hermione, stepped up and slapped him across the face twice.  **Hard**.  He staggered back a little, the red imprints of her hand standing out on his pale skin.  "Go to hell, Rowe," she replied just as evenly, before turning around on her tottering high heels to hitch a ride home, a single tear running ponderously down her cheek.

// I'll show him, the bastard.  Hermione the frizzy-headed nerd is leaving.  Hope you like the new, sexy Hermione who's taking her place . . . //

TBC

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Yay!  I'm finally done with the first chapter!!! *celebrates*  I hope that it's okay right now.  This is about Hermione's summer right now, we'll be going to Hogwarts by chapter 3 or something.  Whoever can guess what book I got the name "Tucker Rowe" from gets a . . . *drumroll please* big, fat, virtual hug!  Heh.

To my wonderful first 4 reviewers, thank you SOOO much for taking time to read my homely lil fic and reviewing!  *MUAH*  You should've seen that big, goofy grin on my face.  And to anyone else who's reading this, just press that happy little bluish-grey button below . . . c'mon ya know you want to . . . authors LOVE reviews *hint hint* 

I'll be updating more soon!

-meEh-


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